


Der Besoffenpeter

by spinner_atropos



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Friendship, Gen, maudlin sentimentality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner_atropos/pseuds/spinner_atropos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you can tell your secretary things you just can't tell the other guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Der Besoffenpeter

**Author's Note:**

> The title is meant to be a reference to Der Struwwelpeter, because why not. Alternate title: I Love You, Man

Janine was starting to nod off over her novel when there was a knock at her apartment door. It was late; if Egon had decided to pay her an unplanned visit he would have called first. She set the book down and padded to the door as quietly as she could, picking up the can of pepper spray on the side table. Another knock. "Janine? It's Peter."

He sounded funny. She looked through the peephole--he didn't look quite right, but he didn't look _wrong_ in a bad way either. A little rumpled, standing a little off-kilter, but without any obvious signs of possession. An impostor? She wished she had a PKE meter--maybe Egon would give her a spare just in case. She made sure the chain was set and opened the door as far as it would allow. "Peter? Why are you here?"

"Oh, y'know, I was in the neighbourhood, wanted to say hi, maybe hang out."

"Didn't you have a date?"

His casual expression faltered. "She dumped me over dinner."

She undid the chain and opened the door. As he shuffled inside she caught the odor and wrinkled her nose. "Good God, Peter, how much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough."

"If you're gonna be sick, the bathroom's that way." She pointed firmly down the hall.

"Nah, not yet." He studied her up and down. "Is Egon here?" He peered carefully around as if Egon might be hiding behind a door.

"No, why?"

"Cute nightie for someone who's spending the night alone." She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. Apparently her look was enough to penetrate his alcohol-fuzzed consciousness. "Maybe the bathroom's a good idea after all."

While he was in the bathroom she changed into a pair of pajamas more suited to entertaining unexpected guests. She was waiting on the couch when he returned. "Sit down before you fall down." He sat down next to her, the Venkman _bonhomie_ utterly gone, leaving him looking lost. "Chryssi dumped you?" Nobody dumped Pete Venkman.

"She said I wasn't offering her enough. That she needed a relationship with more depth."

"Wow." Chryssi had seemed like another of Peter's preferred all-surface-and-no-substance arm candy. Maybe none of them had looked closely enough. "That's pretty harsh."

"I think she's right, Janine." He was close to tears. "Best woman I ever had, way better than I deserved, she dumped me."

"Chryssi?" She hadn't seen any signs that Peter had been remotely serious about her.

"Nooooooo, Dana," he scolded, as if the change of topic were obvious.

"Oh, so _that's_ what this is about." Dana had been the only other person ever to dump him, and he had taken it hard. Apparently time hadn't yet healed those wounds.

"Aren't the guys home? I think they might understand better than I would."

"One of 'em I could maybe face, but not all of 'em. I have _some_ pride left. Besides, I think you can keep a secret."

"Yeah, I can. So tell me your troubles."

He sighed. "I see the way you look at Spengs. Sometimes I even catch him and see the way he looks at you. And I realize that nobody's ever looked at me like that. And I think maybe I'm missing something. Sometimes I wonder if I should try settling down, just to see if it takes. If I like it. But I'm afraid I'll find out I'm just like my dad." He looked in danger of tears again.

"You're not your dad," she chided gently. "So far you've managed to finish years of college and start up and run a successful business. You've even saved the world a bunch of times. If you wanna try a serious relationship, you can probably do that too. You might just have to choose your candidates a little differently."

"But I _like_ pretty."

"'Pretty' doesn't automatically mean shallow or stupid. Don't be a schmuck, Peter."

"First I'd have to find someone who liked me enough to even consider it, anyway. I got nobody but me. You have a whole crazy family, so does Zed. Ray doesn't have any parents, but he has Aunt Lois and Cousin Sam. Egon's got the best mom in the world and maybe some useless relatives. I have--me and Pop, but you know what he's like. There one minute and gone the next."

"You've got us, Peter." She put an arm around him. "Family doesn't have to be blood."

He laid his head on her shoulder. "I always wondered what it'd be like to have a sister. I love you, Janine." His tone was getting dangerously soppy. He started leaning heavily on her, and was in danger of pushing her over.

"Oh good, you're _that_ kind of drunk. I love you too Peter, now get off me before I have to hurt you." She pushed at him until he sat up again. "You want me to drive you home or what?"

"If I go home like this the guys'll know something's wrong."

"Might as well tell them while you're feeling no pain."

"Not yet."

"So you wanna crash on my couch."

He put his head on her shoulder again, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "I roll in late tomorrow like usual, they think it's all normal, I tell them my cover story a couple days later."

"I should've known you'd already have a plan. Lemme find you some blankets and stuff, and I repeat what I said about the bathroom. You barf anywhere else and you're the one cleaning it up." He gave her a cockeyed grin and took off his coat and shoes. "You're gonna feel like hell in the morning, but there's not much we can do about that. And my bedroom door locks in case you get any drunken ideas."

"I just told you you're like my sister, what kinda perv are you?" He wrinkled his nose at her and she dropped the blankets on his head. "You're the best, Janine," he said from under them.

"Yeah, I am. G'night Peter." She turned the light off and headed for the bedroom. "Anyone ever tell you you sound like Carlton the Doorman when you're drunk?"

 


End file.
